


Taking Orders

by PenguinofProse



Series: Smutty Saturdays [28]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pining Clarke, Smut, Smutty Saturday, fwb to exes to friends to lovers, manipulative Clarke, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29885880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: In which Clarke develops a strategy to take command of the dropship camp, and it doesn't turn out quite how she planned.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Smutty Saturdays [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930432
Comments: 7
Kudos: 114





	Taking Orders

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a fic with pining Clarke for a change. Also a little smut along the way, because it's Saturday and all. Huge thanks to Stormkpr for betaing it and Zou for telling me a couple months ago that the two thousand words of this I had going stale on my computer were worth persevering with! Happy reading!
> 
> Content note: manipulative sexual relationship in the early scenes. Depictions of low self worth consistent with what we see in canon.

It starts off as an experiment, more than anything else. A test. Clarke stretching her wings and seeing whether, perhaps, she might fly.

She's always been a problem solver, you see, so now she's put together a few puzzle pieces and formed an idea. She's seen the way Bellamy uses his sex appeal to exert control over the camp. She's seen, too, the way that he looks at her sometimes – too heated, too interested, too _enthralled_.

So that's why, next time they're knee-deep in an argument about camp policy, she kisses him.

He kisses her back without hesitation. Good. It looks like her hypothesis was right. Even as he deepens the kiss, she tries to keep her head level and her goal in sight. She wants him eating out of the palm of her hand – that's what this experiment is all about.

It's easy to match him as his hands grow bolder. He's attractive, confident – _commanding_ , even.

Yeah. She needs to watch that. She'll be the one giving orders round here, thank you very much. That's the whole point of this latest plan of hers.

That's why she pulls away from the kiss and kneels at his feet. He tries to follow her with his lips, tries to hold onto her with a hand cupped about her cheek.

"No." She tells him firmly, but tempering the denial with a coy smile. "You're going to stand there and let me take care of you. Let me suck you off." It's an order, carefully phrased as a plea. It's all part of her scheme to get him exactly where she wants him.

He nods, jaw tense – but with the good kind of tension, she's pretty sure. He's staring at her through heavy eyes as she unbuckles his belt and tugs his trousers out of the way. She makes a point of peering up at him often, of shooting coy little glances from beneath her arched brows.

She moves his boxers out of the way with her teeth. Honestly, it's simpler than she thought it would be – she just takes hold of the elastic and tugs. And sure, she has to help herself out a little with her hands because it's quite difficult to ease boxers off a hard cock with teeth alone. But it's worth it, for the stunned gasp she hears from Bellamy as he stands over her.

She doesn't bother being subtle, when she takes him into her mouth. She keeps it pretty businesslike, taking him as deep as she can, working the rest of his length with her hand. But even at the same time she keeps peering up at him. She figures eye contact and attitude is the key to making this work.

She doesn't know Bellamy's sex noises well, of course. Maybe if this works out she'll get to know them better in future. So when he starts getting breathless, and groaning, and tugging at her hair, she doesn't know whether he's teetering on the very brink of coming or if he's just an expressive guy.

She'll try it. Time for the next stage of her plan.

She stops dead. He whines loudly – not a groan, but an actual high-pitched _whine_. It shoots straight to her crotch, quite against her better judgement. She can't quite believe it. She has the power to drag sounds like that out of Bellamy Blake?

She tries to refocus, looks up at him with what she hopes is a confident and provocative arch to her brows.

"Sorry – did you want something?" She teases.

"Please." He groans, reaching down to tug softly at her hair.

"What was that?"

"Please, Clarke. _Please_. It feels so good."

She gets back on with it, then. She's made her point – she's shown him that she's in the driving seat, here, for all that she's the one kneeling. She resumes her rhythm, keeps working his cock until he's coming into her mouth with a broken moan.

There's a moment's silence, marred only by the sound of Bellamy's rough breathing. Clarke pulls his clothes carefully back into place, fastens his belt with the utmost precision.

"Can I return the favour?" Bellamy asks, a little hoarse.

"No thanks. I'm all good for today."

"Maybe some other time?"

"Yeah, sure. Maybe next time. Hey – remind me what we decided about the new smokehouse?"

A beat of silence. The slightest pause, while Bellamy considers her question. He knows full well that they never reached an agreement, of course.

"Build it your way." He says in the end, a little too bright to be entirely natural.

"Great. Thanks. This was fun, Bellamy – let's try it again some time."

She strides from his tent, confident in the knowledge that her experiment has been a resounding success.

…...

Clarke isn't surprised that her plan works. But she is surprised by just how well it works, how quickly.

Only the very next day she's discussing camp routines with Bellamy when he takes exception to her plans for improvements to the makeshift dropship med bay. And really, she's never come across anyone before who so firmly believes that improving medical facilities is a _bad_ idea. But he seems to have very strong opinions on the matter, arguing that it's a waste of resources they cannot afford to spare.

She takes a calming breath and calls upon her latest strategy.

"Bellamy – are you sure I can't persuade you to agree with me on this?" She asks, looking up at him from beneath her lashes with what she hopes is a sexy smile.

It must be at least passably alluring – all at once Bellamy is nodding, standing back with his hands spread in resignation.

"You're right." He says. "Absolutely. You run med bay – you should have the final word on all decisions regarding it."

"Thank you." She murmurs, blinking up at him.

She doesn't make him wait long for his reward. The moment they've run out of business to discuss she's wrapping a hand about the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He knows the formula now, of course, and responds in kind .

But she decides to do things a little differently, today. This will not be about toying with him while she sucks him off, making a point of letting him know she's in charge round here. She wants this to be more of a thank you for going with her decision, just then. A sweet reward for doing as she asked.

That's why, as soon as they are both naked, she pushes him onto the bed and straddles him. That's why she sinks onto the length of his cock, smiles coyly down at him as she starts to ride him.

"Feels so good." He huffs out, reaching for her breasts.

No. She can't have that. She can't have him thinking that her breasts are just there for the taking. She loops her hands around his wrists and pins them either side of his head. She knows he's stronger than she is, so he must be deliberately going along with it. And the way he groans at her action is a pretty good clue that he's into it, too.

Clarke almost surprises herself with how much she's enjoying herself, as well. She's not been very sexually active since the truth about Finn and Raven came out, so it's good to get on top of someone new and remind herself that she can still be confident and compelling in the bedroom. And Bellamy looks gorgeous as he grimaces up at her, feels incredible where his arms are tense and twitching beneath her hands.

But it's the noises he's making that are really going to be her undoing, she fears. Those needy moans are quite unlike the confident bluster she associates with him around camp. Just for a moment, she finds that she is in danger of despising herself for the way she's manipulating him, here.

Then she stops thinking anything much at all as a fierce orgasm rushes through her.

Bellamy's not far behind, jerking his hips up urgently towards her even as she sits astride him. She can't allow herself to think about the raw strength it must take to achieve that. She mustn't. That way lies madness, she's pretty sure.

She doesn't hang around when they're done. She pulls one of Bellamy's furs up to cover his nakedness, even goes as far as tucking it sweetly around his chin.

She may be manipulating him, but she's not a total monster.

…...

Clarke stands by her new system, in the days and weeks which follow.

She and Bellamy argue a lot, so she's pleased she has a consistent and reliable approach to getting her way, now. She can't help but notice that he seems to pick even more arguments with her than ever. But they never last long, these days – all it takes is that particular coy smile and he rolls right over and lets her have her way.

Sometimes she feels uncomfortable about the way she's treating him – she can't deny it. She came to Earth as a naive and positive young woman who wanted to see the best in people, and now she's using her sexual favours to manipulate an acquaintance she mostly respects into doing what she wants. Put like that, it's not pretty. But she tells herself, day in, day out, that this is for the greater good. Having Bellamy on her side – however she dragged him there – will save lives.

And anyway, it's not as if she's using her powers for ill. She's doing the best for the camp, making every single decision with the wellbeing of the teenagers at heart. And she's not forcing Bellamy to do anything in bed, nor is she dragging him into anything particularly depraved.

Yeah, who is she kidding? She knows it's messed up. But if this is how she keeps everyone alive, she'll keep plowing on without looking back.

…...

She doesn't quite notice she has actually come to _like_ the guy until he goes and gets himself killed.

The battle at the dropship camp is a mess. They lose almost half their people. Clarke wakes up in Mount Weather, angry and scared.

And yet she wastes a good few minutes on fretting that she really should have appreciated Bellamy while she had the chance.

…...

She tries to make up for that, when it turns out he's not dead and they are reunited at Camp Jaha. She tries to be a little kinder and warmer, as they sit at the makeshift bar and share a conversation about what to do next, but he seems determined to start an argument.

"So we go through the reaper tunnels. That's our way in." She points out on her map.

"No. I think I should get myself captured and then fight out from the inside."

"Are you hearing me? That's what I tried to do. You'd never get access to a weapon or to any way to unlock the doors and get our friends out."

"I'd manage it." Bellamy says, smirking. "Or maybe there's another way? How about we ambush them when they come out to do their scouting and break through while the door is open?"

"Bellamy, that's insane. It's so much easier to get through the tunnels."

"No. I say ambush, every time. Take the fight to them."

"Why are we even arguing about this? You know I'm right." Clarke points out, exasperated. She's been trying to keep it soft and polite, but if she didn't know better, she'd say he was being deliberately difficult.

"I like arguing with you." Bellamy says, with an easy shrug, leaning back on his chair. "Either I get the fun of bickering with you or I get laid, it seems like. And you look cute when you're mad."

Clarke gulps. Wow. She didn't see that one coming. She should never have underestimated him, she realises now. She should have realised back when he recognised that Oppenheimer quote that he's no fool – or maybe even before. Just because he tends to be a bit impulsive doesn't mean he can't use his brain, she understands all at once.

Damn it. He's been onto her all along, hasn't he? He knows exactly what she's been up to.

"I – I -"

"Come on, Princess – no snappy comeback for me?" He teases. "How about I agree with you about the tunnels? Will that cheer you up? If I tell you I agree we should get in through the tunnels can I take you home for a bit?"

She nods, wordless. She has a feeling she's just been beaten at her own game. But honestly, she's missed Bellamy. She's missed his smirking cocky face and his silly impulsive heart, as well as his firm arms and that particular face he pulls on the verge of coming.

That's why she does it. That's why she gets all clingy, just for a moment, and reaches out to take his hand as they leave the bar.

…...

Clarke thinks nothing of it, when she walks the road to TonDC and tells Bellamy she doesn't want him rushing into Mount Weather alone and putting himself in danger. She's just being a responsible leader and keeping him safe.

There's that, and there's the fact she's got quite attached to having him in her bed.

But for some reason, he has it in his head to be difficult, today.

"Since I don't take orders from you, I'm going to need a better reason." He tells her.

 _I can't lose you, too_. The words are right there on the tip of her tongue. Doesn't he deserve to know that this is more than just a test or a tactic to her, now? Didn't she decide when she thought she lost him after the dropship battle, that she ought to appreciate him more when she had the chance?

But because she's a fool, confident in the art of trying too hard but scared when it comes to love, she gives him a different answer entirely.

"Last I checked, you _do_ take orders from me." She says with that coy smile. The one that says he'll get his reward if he plays nicely, and that she's in the driving seat, here.

But for the first time, that tactic fails her. For the first time, he doesn't fall in at her demand.

For the first time, he looks angry rather than aroused.

"This isn't one of your _games_ , Clarke. Our people are in danger. This isn't like me inventing a disagreement about med bay to tease you into fucking me. This is _real_." He bites the word out, harsh, furious. "So I am going to take Lincoln and get out of here."

"Bellamy -"

"Goodbye." He enunciates it carefully, in a tone that makes it quite clear he doesn't feel _good_ towards her at all, right now.

"Please, wait. You're right. I shouldn't – I didn't mean -" She takes a deep breath and tries again. "I don't want you to go."

"You've already mentioned that, Princess. And yet I'm going."

With that he strides off, right before her very eyes. He taps Lincoln on the shoulder, and the two of them walk straight into the trees.

Clarke says his name twice more – or maybe three times. She feels a little pathetic for that, but she really doesn't want him to go.

He goes all the same. He leaves her there, utterly powerless, still grieving, lonelier than ever.

And all at once it hits her that maybe her experiment wasn't such a success, after all.

…...

Clarke lets a bomb drop on TonDC.

It shocks her. She's honestly stunned at her own behaviour, that she would let so many people die. Is it because she's that desperate to protect Bellamy? Is it because she's become the kind of manipulative monster who believes the end always justifies the means?

Either way, she's left with one stark realisation – she doesn't respect herself any more, doesn't trust her own judgement. And more than anything, she doesn't much _like_ herself, either.

Meanwhile Bellamy and Lincoln manage to take down Mount Weather with scarcely a shot fired. They negotiate some deal with Dante Wallace – to donate bone marrow, rather than being drained of blood.

It has Clarke questioning her own judgement all over again. It seems unreal, now, that she used to think herself so much above Bellamy. That she thought she had the definitive moral high ground, between them, and that she was therefore doing the right thing by bribing him into doing as she wanted.

She kills hundreds. He saves thousands.

That's why she walks off into the trees.

…...

She comes back when she hears the alliance is growing shaky – the three-way alliance between Mount Weather, the sky people, and the grounders, that is. She feels like she ought to. She has made mistakes in the past, so she ought to be here for her people now. She ought to shore up the alliance with the grounders that she negotiated.

By coming _back_ , she doesn't mean that she heads for Camp Jaha, though – or Arkadia, as she hears they call it now. She means that she comes back into the world of politics and negotiation. Specifically, she heads for Polis. She has heard that Arkadia has allied itself more closely with Mount Weather, of late, and that there are tensions between the grounders and the other two groups.

She does her best, in Polis. She negotiates with Lexa and with Kane. One time Miller and Monroe and a few others come to the city, too, and Clarke hugs them all a little stiffly.

She misses Bellamy so much it hurts, but she doesn't ask about him.

She has no right to ask about him. She's a monster, and he is the hero who saved their people.

…...

It is a report from Kane, delivered via Indra, that alerts Clarke to the danger of Pike rising in Arkadia. She resolves to go and act on it right away.

By that, she means she resolves to go and speak to Bellamy right away.

It's odd, how easily it comes to her to decide that, now. She's been in Polis a long few weeks and has made a point of sending him no message at all. But the moment she hears he's in danger of getting himself involved in this fearful, bloodthirsty movement, she simply has to go to him. She has to protect him from the worst of himself. He tried to do that for her, back before she was such a fool and let him go into Mount Weather. Back before she really let loose the monster inside of herself.

She says her farewells to Lexa and heads back to Arkadia, simply riding straight through the front gate. This land is relatively safe, these days, thanks to the alliance.

The only danger here is to her heart.

She doesn't know what she'll say to Bellamy. She doesn't know how to even begin to apologise for everything she has done wrong to hurt both him and other people. She thinks the easiest way to explain herself might be to ask if they can revisit, for a moment, that morning on the road to TonDC. If she can just tell him what she ought to have told him that day – that she was coming to realise she cares for him, that she doesn't want to lose him – then perhaps there is some hope of fixing this.

Yes. That's what she ought to do. She ought to speak from the heart, be honest with him about her feelings and her fears.

That resolution lasts as long as it takes to tie up her horse and find Bellamy himself.

He's sitting in his room, staring at the wall. He's perched on the edge of the bed she remembers spending a good deal of time in, three long months ago.

He looks surprised, when he realises it's her at the door. Surprised and also _annoyed_.

"Clarke? What are you doing here? I thought you were more at home in Polis these days."

"I've come to talk to you about Pike. What's going on, Bellamy? Why are you with him? Please tell me that going to -"

"Stop, Clarke. Just stop. It's none of your business. You can't show up out of the blue after _months_ and expect to manipulate me like this."

"Bellamy -"

"Sorry – _negotiate_ with me." He corrects himself sarcastically. "That's what you do, isn't it? That's your special talent?"

She shakes her head, feels tears well in her eyes. "No. I'm not great at it, and we both know it. You were the one who negotiated the bone marrow donations at Mount Weather."

He snorts. "That wasn't negotiating. I was just looking for the kindest solution."

"That's all I'm trying to do now." She insists, hands spread helplessly, still hovering just inside the threshold.

He frowns. She presses on.

"You're right. Sometimes I've seen negotiation as being too much of a... _slippery_ thing. About winning and deceiving other people. Or manipulating them into doing what I want. That's how it started with talking Lexa into this alliance. But I'm trying to do better, Bellamy. I've spent some time in Polis trying to get to know the grounders' ways better and understand them. I want to be understanding here, too."

He snorts, unimpressed.

She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know whether to carry on this fruitless argument, telling him that Pike is wrong, begging him to support the alliance more strongly. She doesn't know whether to cut down to the bedrock of what, she presumes, this argument is _actually_ about – namely the fact that she left him without a word after Mount Weather.

Maybe she ought to go back to her original plan. Maybe she ought to gather her courage and speak from the heart, tell him how important he is to her. Tell him how much she valued that thing between them that might have been growing into a relationship.

"I'm sorry." She tries simply. "I know I haven't been here. I know I left without explaining myself."

"I didn't need an _explanation_." He bites out. "It was obvious. You were angry with yourself. But you could have said goodbye."

"You're right. I could. I _should_."

"And I know it looks like we're doing fine, but this hasn't been a bed of roses." Bellamy bites out. "Figuring out the alliance with Mount Weather was hard. Some of our people were hostile – of course they were. And you left me as the only voice from the hundred to stand up to people like your mother and Kane."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"And then the grounder attacks -"

"The _Ice Nation_ attacks." Clarke reminds him. "Not all the grounders. Just one clan."

"The _Ice Nation_ attacks have scared people and made them angry." He concludes.

She nods. She gets that. She understands all his grievances, and hates herself for them almost as much as she hates herself for letting a bomb drop on TonDC – on hundreds of innocent strangers and her own _mother_ – for the sake of protecting him.

He wouldn't have needed that protection at all, if she'd been more honest when she begged him not to go.

Silence falls. Clarke can taste the salt of tears, but she's trying to keep her breathing from growing ragged. Bellamy, meanwhile, is dry-eyed but half panting with anger and frustration.

She has never felt less in command of a situation in her life.

"There was more than that." He says quietly, now. "You know there was more than that. I thought we had a good thing going, you and me."

"I thought that too." She says, cautiously optimistic, daring to take a seat on the bed. She leaves a polite six inches between them, but it's a start.

He snorts. "Turns out we were wrong."

"Bellamy -"

"I'll work with you again." He says, interrupting her. "I see what you see. I know Pike's approach is dangerous. I know it's only the Ice Nation. Most of the hundred can see that, even though we fought Trikru when we first landed. We want to believe things are getting better."

"They are. Things can be better."

He nods, attempting a weak smile. "OK. Then let's make things better."

She allows herself to relax. That sounded encouraging. Does he want things to be better between them, too? She allows her eyes to flicker up to his face, sees him running his tongue out over his lips. Is that -? Is he -?

She leans in, reaches up towards his lips. He jerks away from her, sharply.

Well, then. It seems that she was mistaken.

"I'm sorry." She says.

"We can't." He barks out, at almost the same time.

She nods. "You're right. I was so manipulative – a monster – and I -"

"Come on, Clarke. I was as bad." He tells her firmly, almost _warmly_ – as if they were not arguing bitterly just moments ago. "I used to start arguments with you deliberately to get you to sleep with me." He points out.

"But I started it."

"I don't care." He says firmly, shaking his head. "I just think – I liked it better before, when we weren't sleeping together. Those couple of weeks back at the dropship where we were starting to get along."

She feels her heart drop to her toes, fumbles to keep control of her face and her voice. "Oh. OK. Sure. I'm sorry it wasn't doing anything for you." She babbles, utterly devastated.

That's wrong of her, isn't it? That's so thoroughly wrong. She ought to have her eyes on the big problem, here – namely Pike – and on the good news that Bellamy will work with her to resolve the issue.

She shouldn't be mourning the loss of a relationship she sabotaged four months ago, now – or perhaps that she sabotaged right from the very beginning.

He's frowning at her, hard, as he speaks next. "It's not that. It's more that I think we worked better as friends. We weren't very healthy as a couple or... whatever we were."

Well, then. This is truly pathetic, isn't it? He's given her the whole excruciating breakup speech. _It's not you, it's me. We're better as friends. We just don't work as a couple_.

Good god. She definitely has better things to worry about right now. Better things to cry over, too – the deaths of Wells and Finn and so many others, to begin with.

But all she wants, right this moment, is Bellamy. She wants him flat on his back beneath her, looking up at her like she hung the stars in the sky, making those adorable whining noises that tell her he's totally losing his mind over her. She wants the way he makes her feel safe and special and like she's someone worth being, all at once.

She doesn't really feel like any of those things, in this moment.

"Clarke?" He prompts, visibly concerned.

"Yeah. You're right. Good call. Better as friends."

He nods. "I hope so. It'll be great to work with you again. What do you plan to do about Pike?"

"I haven't really decided. I didn't think much further than talking things through with you." She admits. "I guess I'll stay in Arkadia for a while and we can figure out what's going on. Do you have any ideas for how to improve relationships with the grounders or get through to people about why Pike is dangerous?"

"You're staying?" He asks simply.

"Yeah. Do you have any ideas for how to get through to people?" She prompts again, a little impatient.

"No. Not really. But we have time to figure it out if you're staying, right?"

"I guess so."

He nods, smiling slightly. "Great. You're staying. Want to go get a drink while we figure it out?"

…...

They do figure it out, more or less. They welcome Lincoln and Indra into official roles as ambassadors and advisors to the council. They reach out hands of friendship towards the grounders, and towards nearby Trikru in particular, until the residents in Arkadia come to realise they have more in common with their neighbours than what divides them – a deep-seated hatred of Ice Nation, if nothing else.

That's not ideal. Clarke would rather have them united by more than another shared enemy. But it's progress, and along the way they discover a little more common ground, too.

The other thing that happens along the way? She spends a great deal of time sharing drinks in the bar with Bellamy. She's almost starting to believe what he said about them being better off as friends, in fact.

Almost, but not quite.

She still craves some kind of more sexual and even romantic relationship with him far more than she really ought. But this is better than nothing, to say the least. They talk and laugh together, and even occasionally cry together, and it is good.

"What's on your mind?" Bellamy asks, now, placing her next drink before her on the table with a resounding _thunk_.

"Just thinking I'm pleased I came home when I did." She says easily.

"Yeah. Me too. I sometimes wonder how I would have coped if you were gone longer. Would I have ended up following Pike into everything he was talking about doing?"

"I don't know." She says, because that's the honest truth, even if it isn't what Bellamy wants to hear.

"Me neither. Thanks, I guess."

She snorts. "I don't know why you're thanking me. Pretty sure it should be the other way round. Thanks for welcoming me back – I know that can't have been easy."

"I'm not good at staying angry with you." He admits, taking a gulp of moonshine.

She smiles gently at him. He was so right, to suggest they spend some time working together and shoring up their friendship. There is an honesty between them, now, that simply wasn't there back when they were sleeping together. And they have always been more vulnerable in front of each other than the rest of the world, but they've taken that to a whole new level, these last few weeks.

But she misses him in her bed more than she can bear, some nights.

It's not just that, of course. Not just the physical side of things, not just the fact she craves his touch. It's more the sense that she has _failed_. That her experiment has been an abject disaster. And more even than she hates being wrong, she hates the fact that Bellamy has somehow revoked his interest in her. The way that he's tried her out, and decided he's not so attracted after all. That he prefers _just being friends_ when she was ready to offer him her heart – or at least as much of it as she knew how to give.

The way that this is enough for him, or that her love is _not_ enough for him, or perhaps both tied together in knots.

…...

Clarke is just starting to relax when the news comes that Lexa is dead.

She feels devastated, the rug ripped out from right under her feet. Not at the loss of Lexa as an individual, perhaps – she was attracted to her, yes, and they grew close in Polis. But she's been far too worried about her relationship with Bellamy to develop real romantic feelings for anyone else.

She's more concerned about what Lexa's death means. It's bad news for the alliance, of course. And it's bad news, too, because it seems she was killed by some force that is rising in Polis. An army with chips in their heads who speak of a City of Light, Indra tells them in a frantic message over the radio. Tech, dangerous and complex.

"I have to go to Polis." Clarke says, the moment Indra ends the radio call. "I need to figure out what's going on here. Kane, can you get Mount Weather and tell them we need backup? Let's take lots of that gas so we don't have to hurt anyone."

Kane nods. Abby opens her mouth to speak.

"I'm coming with you." Bellamy says firmly, before anyone else can get a word in edgewise.

"Bellamy -"

"Come on. You know I'm not going to let you do this alone."

"I won't be alone. I'm taking half of Mount Weather and their sleeping gas." She points out.

"And me."

"Bellamy -"

"And me." He insists, stubborn to the last.

 _I can't lose you, too_. It's right there on the tip of her tongue. The words she should have said to him, all those months ago.

She can't say them today, either. She can't say them because she's scared, and because at the end of the day she's selfish. If she's going to charge into a strange situation with a detachment of her new allies for company, she's going to take the person she trusts the most in this world with her.

She nods at him, resigned.

The conversation moves on. Arrangements are made for their departure, messages received and sent for Mount Weather. They're to go within the hour, Kane confirms, dismissing them to make their final preparations.

Bellamy catches her elbow, just outside the door. Just as she's about to head down the hall and gear up.

"I'm sorry about Lexa." He says simply.

She nods. "Thanks."

"Let me know if you need to talk about it. I know it's none of my business but – I heard rumours you guys were close."

"I guess maybe we could have been, if things were different. She was a good friend to our people and the alliance."

Bellamy nods. He gives a sad smile, cocks his head consideringly.

Then he pulls her in for the most delicious hug. He holds her tight, rocking her slightly, squeezing her firmly in his strong arms.

He's infuriating, she decides affectionately. Every time she thinks she loves him as much as she is capable of loving anyone, he has to go and do something beautiful like this and prove her wrong.

…...

Clarke shuts down the City of Light. It's a complex operation, with the Mount Weather medical team running nightblood through her veins while their technical team work with Raven to show her the way to the switch.

The most important part of the whole operation? Bellamy Blake, standing at her side, and squeezing her hand as she walks into the light.

…...

It is bad news that Praimafaya will soak the Earth in radiation once more. Of course it is. But actually, Clarke is not feeling too anxious about it.

They have a solid plan. The scientists and doctors of Arkadia and Mount Weather will work on creating synthetic nightblood to protect everyone. There are bunkers to ride out the heat of the death wave, located in Mount Weather and Polis, as well as plans to make Arkadia safe for the duration of the flames.

It's all coming together quite smoothly, Clarke thinks. The alliance looks solid, which is the main thing. All will be well – for the first time since she landed on Earth, she more or less believes that.

She has a simple task today, in theory at least. She is supposed to be compiling lists of which people should ride out the death wave in which locations. They have a very crowded first month or so ahead of them, but after that, they should be able to live out their lives peacefully.

At least, that's the dream.

But she's finding her simple task quite a challenge. She has divided up all of the civilians, most of the essential personnel.

But there are just a couple of names she cannot decide where to place.

"I should probably go to Polis." She muses out loud.

Bellamy is sitting next to her, and he seems interested in this topic. "Am I going to be there?"

"No. I have you down for Mount Weather." That makes sense, she figures, seeing as he took an early lead in that friendship.

"Then why don't you come to Mount Weather?" He asks.

"Because I should be in Polis. I led those negotiations." She reminds him, although she knows that he knows that full well.

"So let me come to Polis with you."

"But you should be in Mount Weather." She argues uselessly. It's a pointless row, like some of those they used to share in their early days – only this one, she thinks sadly, will not end with them in bed together.

He doesn't reply to that. She turns her head, sees him simply staring at her, long and hard.

"Bellamy?"

"Don't make me say it, Clarke. Don't make me _beg_. I thought we were done with making each other feel _small_ like that."

"Sorry. I'm not trying to -" She cuts herself off, tries again. "You want to stick with me? That's what you're saying?"

He nods.

"Me too." She says easily. "Of course I do. I just don't know if we should."

He frowns, bites his lip. He takes a deep breath and speaks. "I think maybe this is one time where we just have to make that call. Even if we're worried about being selfish or whatever. I've given up a lot since we came to this planet. I'm not willing to give up _you_."

She nods. "Yeah. I get that. I – I can't lose you." She gets the words out, after all this time. "I know all the sites should be safe but I want to stay with you all the same."

"Great. Then that's settled." He says, firm, not to be argued with.

There's a beat of silence. Clarke peers up at Bellamy, wondering why. Should she move onto the next step of finalising the lists? Should she -?

Wow. He's leaning in towards her, eyelids fluttering closed, lips pouting ever so slightly. No. No way is this happening. He's the one who said they should just be friends. He's the one who doesn't want _her_.

But it _is_ happening. He's kissing her, soft and strangely tentative – not at all like those demanding kisses they used to share. She sighs against his mouth, parts her lips for more, reaches up to tangle a hand in his hair. She needs to make the most of this while it lasts. Who's to say he won't pull back in two minutes' time and remember he wants to be _just friends_?

He does. Almost as if she jinxed it, he pulls back and looks her right in the eyes.

"Is this OK?" He asks, quiet.

"You tell me. You're the one who thinks we're better off as friends." She says, a little too sharp, probably.

He shakes his head. "No. It's not – I -" He takes a deep breath, tries again. "We didn't work at first. But maybe now we know each other better? Now we're such good friends and we can trust that we won't hurt each other?"

"You want to try again?" She asks, eager, scarcely daring to believe her luck.

He nods, frowning hard. "Yeah. If you want that too."

She answers that with a kiss. A resounding kiss, firm and perhaps a little too forceful – but she needs to show him just how badly she wants this, she figures.

No. That's not quite right, is it? That shouldn't be her priority. She needs to show him she won't hurt him, that this won't be like their first attempt. That she's not going to try to manipulate him or tell him what to do. That he can take the lead and show her what he's comfortable with.

She forces herself to slow down a little, to kiss more gently. He's keeping it pretty steady, too – _cautious_ , almost. So it is that they sit there for a long few minutes, simply leaning towards each other from their separate chairs and kissing rather chastely.

It's lovely. Of course it is. It's _affirming_ , apart from anything else, to know that Bellamy is still interested in some kind of romantic relationship with her after all.

But she's disappointed, too. There's none of that fire and eagerness she remembers from their early days. She supposes maybe that's her fault – she used to be the one who brought much of that energy. But she doesn't know how to be passionate without being _decisive_ , without calling the shots like she used to. And she's resolved that she cannot be like that, this time around.

Eventually, Bellamy pulls back from the kiss.

"Do you maybe want to come sit here with me?" He asks, gesturing to his lap. "Or else take this to the bedroom?"

"It's up to you." She says, cautious.

"OK. Maybe we sit here for a while and then see about heading to bed?"

She nods, follows his instruction to the letter. She sits herself on his lap – not straddling him but chastely sitting across his thighs. She turns for a kiss, keeps it polite and slow, but dares to get a little more curious, too. She wraps her arms around him starts stroking a hand over his shoulders and back.

She's missed holding him, and this is good. Even though she's keeping it calm, she can still feel herself growing aroused just by being with Bellamy again after so long. He doesn't seem to be feeling it so much, though, and she's worried about that. There are none of the groans she used to tease out of him, and as she fidgets in his lap she can feel that his cock is not yet hard.

Crap. Is she doing something wrong? Is he not so attracted to her any more?

She reaches a hand towards his belt buckle, tries for a calm smile as she pulls back from the kiss to speak to him. She cannot let him see how insecure she is about this, how devastated she is that he seems not to be so into this after all.

"Could I get my hand on you?" She asks, quiet, as if asking him politely for a treat.

He frowns. "I think there's something we need to talk about first."

Oh god. _Oh god_. He's decided already that he doesn't want a second attempt after all. He's remembered that she's a monster, or noticed that she's less curvy and more _wan_ than she used to be.

She withdraws her hand. She sits on his lap, hands primly clasped, gives a nod and waits for him to say what he must.

"I don't know how to say this." He begins.

Well, now. That's hardly encouraging. She swallows stickily, gathers her courage.

"Just say it." She recommends. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out." They can figure out a hasty return to friendship, right? They've done that once before and lived to tell the tale.

"OK. I like it when you boss me around in bed. I want it to be like that again." He says simply, looking at her with apprehension in his eyes.

That's definitely not what she was expecting. That is, perhaps, the _opposite_ of what she was expecting. She blinks at him, stunned, for several long seconds before she manages to gather words and speak.

" _What_? But – but we agreed that was unhealthy."

"No." He says mildly. "The way we _used_ it was unhealthy. The whole relationship around it. But maybe we could still do that as kind of an... act? Just a game we play? If you want to, of course." He rushes to add. "If you're not into it, that's fine. We can try something else. It's just that _this_ – you being so polite and tentative and waiting for me to make all the decisions – it's not really doing much for me. It doesn't feel like _you_. It doesn't feel like the Clarke I've been missing."

"Yeah. I noticed it wasn't doing much for you." She jokes weakly.

He smiles cautiously, squeezes her lightly where his hand rests on her waist.

"OK. Yeah, maybe we can try something." She agrees, considering. "Maybe we can take some parts of that... approach and make them into something new? Something a bit more _caring_?"

"Sounds perfect. Just be _you_." He requests, eyes begging. "I want to feel like I really have my Clarke back."

" _Your_ Clarke?"

"Come on. You liked that." He teases, perhaps slightly nervous.

"Yeah. I did." She thanks him for it with a sweet little kiss on the corner of his mouth. He turns his head, tries to catch her lips, but she's already pulled away.

"No. No more kisses yet." She tells him.

He whines a little, but she can see in his eyes that this is exactly what he wanted. She can feel, too, that his cock has started to grow hard beneath her just from this conversation. Just from the sheer _idea_ of her falling back into something like her old role.

She gets up off his lap. She looks at him for a moment, then looks round the room, considering. She could lead him back to her bedroom, of course. But she thinks she can see a fun idea right here.

"I want you to lie on the floor for me." She tells him, firm but soft, she hopes. "You see here? You're going to lie on the rug with one hand on the table leg and one on the end of the couch and you're not going to let go until I say you can."

He nods, throat bobbing with a slow swallow. "And am I going to take my clothes off first?"

She laughs. "Yeah. Sorry. I guess I'm still remembering how this works."

He chuckles in turn, stands up and presses a kiss to her forehead. Huh. So much for no more kisses. But she's not complaining, because she needed that. She needed the reminder that this is just a game, now, and that it doesn't matter if she mucks up her turn once in a while.

He makes a bit of a show of undressing. Nothing excessive or silly, but he draws it out longer than he needs to, holds eye contact with her as he drops his boxers to reveal his erection. Like he's playing a game of chicken with her, daring her to keep her eyes on his and not let her gaze drop to his crotch.

She loses. Of course she loses. She's missed that cock.

She's pleased that Bellamy draws it out like that, anyway. It makes this feel a bit more equal, reminds her that he is buying into their new act by choice. He would never have made a point of teasing her in return, the first time round, so she's happy to see him doing that now.

Happy, and also frustrated. _Sexually_ frustrated, that is. She gets on with stripping herself, too. She matches him, makes careful eye contact with him as she reveals her breasts.

Damn it. He lasts a little longer than she did, keeping his eyes on her face for several long seconds before he lets his gaze slide southwards.

"Go on. Lie down." She prompts him.

He does. He lies where she asked him to, throws her a little smirk as he clenches his hands around the table and the couch. She wanted him like that for a good reason – so he's helpless, unable to use his hands. But she has to admit she's also enjoying the sight of his muscles rippling as he tightens his grip.

"This good enough for you?" He asks, teasing.

She swallows. He look _great_ , stretched out over the floor of her office, his cock jutting straight up and just begging her to come closer.

But he's not quite ready yet.

"Just one thing. Hang on."

She darts to the couch, picks up a cushion. No, not this one. This one is a little worn. She can't use that – only the very best for her Bellamy. She sets it down, tries the next. Yes, that's better. She fluffs it slightly, crouches on the floor next to Bellamy's head.

"I got you a pillow." She whispers, bending forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks, Princess."

She gulps. She wasn't expecting him to wheel out that old nickname. Maybe she should have done, under the circumstances.

She brings her concentration back to her task. She slips a hand under his head, raises it slightly off the floor, stroking his scalp gently as she goes. She slips the cushion into its place, lowers his head tenderly back down.

Yes. That was a good move. It has him gazing at her like he can't quite believe she's real, which has her flushing hotly in turn. This is exactly the kind of thing they should be doing together, she decides – little actions that have her calling the shots but show that caring for him is at the heart of all she does in the bedroom.

Or in the office. This is her _office_ , and that makes it even better, somehow.

Time to get to the really good part, now.

"You good to go?" She asks him briskly.

He chuckles, raises his head to take an exaggerated look at his own erection. "Yeah. It looks that way."

She grins. She's not surprised he steered that towards a joke, because that's what Bellamy does. But all the same, it's important to her to check in with him, this time round. To show him how special he is to her, how much she respects him and wants to make this good for him.

She straddles him, slips easily down onto his cock. It's funny how straightforward this feels, after all these months. But it's like her body remembers exactly how they fit together, as she gets herself settled and starts to build a rhythm.

"I missed this view." He tells her, ending on a groan.

She smirks down at him. "Me, too. Love watching your face."

"Yeah. Your _face_. That's what I meant." He teases, reaching up towards her breasts with his mouth.

He can't get there. He can't reach, with his arms still outstretched, and it's driving Clarke wild to see him straining to try all the same.

"Lie down." She tells him, short and breathless.

He does lie back down. He pulls a face at her as he goes – it's supposed to be a pout, Clarke thinks. But it doesn't quite work, because his pleasured grimace is rather getting in the way.

Somehow this is even more fun than she remembered. Maybe because she doesn't have such a guilty conscience getting in her way, now. Maybe because she knows Bellamy must really quite like her, to want to give them a second chance. But either way, she feels simply _fantastic_. She remembers how she always felt whilst riding him like this – confident and compelling. But tonight she feels wanted, too, and maybe even _needed_.

She's trying not to rush this, but it's difficult. She's missed him so much, and she senses that the feeling is mutual. She can already feel a big orgasm uncurling itself low in her core, can already feel her movements started to grow rushed and sloppy.

It doesn't matter. That's what she decides. Bellamy's acting like they're giving this a second try for _real_ , isn't he? Like there will be other days for taking their time. So maybe they're allowed to get overexcited rather quickly today.

She tears her eyes away from his face, forces herself to take in the rest of him. She really just can't get enough of the expressions he wears when he's falling apart for her. But there are plenty of other things she ought to be fixing in her memories, too – the tension in his neck as he tries to hold on, the way the veins in his arms stand out as he grips at the table and the couch.

He moans loudly, and it pulls her eyes straight back to his face.

"You want something, Bellamy?"

He laughs at himself, and it comes out breathy. "I'm good. Feels great." He gasps.

She bends down to press a kiss to his lips. Just one, so quick it is over almost before it has begun. That wins her another long, loud moan. She simply adores the noises he makes – always has, and always will.

Huh. There she goes, accidentally admitting to herself that she'll always be obsessed with this man.

"You can stop holding on and touch me now." She offers – a request dressed up as a concession.

He understands her. Of course he does – they understand each other pretty damn well, these days. He wastes no time in loosening his grip on table and couch, bringing his hands up to hold her instead. He's got one on her hip, one on her breast, gentle yet firm at the same time, somehow.

That's it. That's the last helping hand she needed, to tip her over the edge. She comes hard, head thrown back, letting out a throaty groan as she grinds deeply against his hips.

She's a little embarrassed when she's done. That was a big scene she made there. She knows they're supposed to be putting on a bit of an act here and all, but she hopes that wasn't too much.

There's that, and there's also the fact she's left Bellamy hanging. She was so overcome, just then, that she didn't keep moving through it and help him along. She feels bad about that, makes a start straight away on moving again.

He groans as she resumes her rhythm, his hand tightening suddenly on her hip.

"You OK?" She asks, bending low to kiss him soundly.

She really wants to kiss him, actually, now she's done. There's something about the satisfaction of having come, the warm afterglow of orgasm, that means she'd like nothing more right now that to kiss and cuddle. That's something they never used to do, before, and it sounds a lot like perfection.

She has to take care of Bellamy first, though. She sits up again, starts moving over him once more.

"'M good." He gasps, bucking his hips up to meet her.

"Yeah. That's it." She reaches out to stroke his cheek, hopes that gesture will back up her praise. "I love it when you start moving underneath me like that. Love it when I can feel that you're close."

He gives a broken, breathy laugh. She likes that. There has been far more laughter and far more smiling, tonight, than they used to manage. She keeps stroking his cheek, keeps murmuring to him softly.

"I'm so happy we're doing this. It feels so right to be back together again, Bellamy." She gulps, wonders if that was a bit too overtly emotional or even _clingy_ for the midst of sex on her office floor.

Screw it. She's missed him, and she cares for him, and she wants him to know it.

"I missed you so much." She admits, smiling down at him.

She doesn't get to look him in the eyes for that one, though. He's got them screwed tight shut as he comes, biting his lip, surging up to meet her one last time before falling with a groan back against the floor.

"Are you OK?" She asks softly. "Maybe we should have gone for a bedroom. That rug and floor can't be very comfy beneath your back."

He opens his eyes, smiling at her. "I didn't even notice. I had a few other things going on." He tells her, smirking.

She grins, wonders what happens now. Do they put their clothes on and go back to sit at her desk? Do they get back to business, as they always used to?

No. It's Bellamy's turn to issue an order, it seems.

"Come here." He demands, reaching out towards her in a clear request for a hug.

She won't say no to that. It's exactly what she wants, really – some quiet time to kiss and cuddle together as they wind down. So it is that she leans forward, eases her arms under his neck and shoulders as best she can, and starts kissing him gently on the lips.

He kisses her back in kind, soft and slow and tender. Exploring, rather than trying to go anywhere in particular. Simply getting to know this side of each other a little better.

And when the kisses slow to nothing, Clarke does not fight it. She does not attempt to take control of the situation, because with Bellamy she has learnt that she can feel safe and happy even when she is not taking charge. She simply lies there, holding him, feeling him hold her in turn. She rests her cheek against his and waits for the moment to end.

She sort of hopes it never will, if she's being honest.

That's why she says it. That's why she tries to make a start on articulating the many things she feels for this man, on saying some of what she should have said to him months ago, probably. She's not confident talking about her feelings, for all that she's confident in so many other ways. Love goes wrong for her, she's pretty sure. But she can _try_. She can make a start. She owes Bellamy that much at least.

"I really like you." She tries, although she fears it sounds inane. "I'm sorry. That must sound silly. But – you're really important to me. You're my best friend and I think we can be good together like this, too. I _hope_ we can. I – yeah. You're special." She concludes, flustered, but proud of herself for making it even that far.

"I really like you too." He says without missing a beat. There's a slight teasing edge to his tone, as if he knows what's going on. As if he understands that there's something else she half wants to say, but isn't quite capable of, yet.

Sure enough, it turns out he is not done talking.

"Tell me when you're ready for me to say... the other thing." He mutters, a little tense.

She chuckles. "You don't take orders from me."

"No. But I do want you to be comfortable. So I'm not going to say it while it's going to freak you out."

"It's not that it's going to freak me out. I just want to be ready to say it back." She muses. "You realise this conversation is ridiculous? We're pretty much both admitting that we feel it."

To her surprise, he laughs. "Come on, Clarke. You basically admitted it the day you tried to stop me going into Mount Weather. I think that's why I was so determined to go. It was nothing to do with taking orders. I was angry you were so attached to me but wouldn't admit why."

"I'm sorry." She says simply. She still feels like she owes him a thousand apologies for that day.

"You're forgiven." He bounces straight back at her. "Or at least, I forgive you. I think it's time to forgive yourself now." He swallows loudly. "In fact, I _order_ you to forgive yourself. And you're going to do what I say for once in your life."

She nods, turns it into a snuggle against his cheek. "OK. I'll try."

He hums, a happy sort of noise, and hugs her a little tighter.

This has been a rather successful experiment, Clarke decides, as they lie there and cuddle closely. Sure, it hasn't had quite the results she first expected. It hasn't turned out to be some kind of straightforward victory.

But it has ended up with a loving relationship – one that makes her feel free and light as a bird in flight. One that makes her feel like she could touch the moon, probably, just as soon as she's feeling brave enough to stretch out her fingers.

That's not at all bad, for life on the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
